The Great Dawsby
by girlwithapen22
Summary: Based upon the Great Gatsby, Jack Dawson has survived the Titanic and has spent ten years trying to search for something most dear to his heart that he lost long ago. It's the roaring 20s and Jack Dawson is a billionaire and now goes by the name of Jay Dawsby. He moves to West Egg and throws fabulous parties. He makes friends with neighbour Nathan Carraby.


I once knew a man called Dawsby. Like many men he was flawed, insatiable and corrupt, but he was also he was one of the most decent men I've ever come across. Dawsby was kind, he was humble and he was generous. All he worked so hard for, all the risks he took, all the dreams he tried so hard to reach, were for a cause so close to his heart. It turned out to be a hopeless cause, a cause that turned out to be all in vain.

Dawsby turned out to be one of my closest and most trusted friends. I lived in a modest quaint little English style cottage a few meters away from Dawsby's mansion. It looked like a palace fit for the king of England. I heard rumours that the Scandinavian royal family once lived there when they were staying in American. Dawsby's palace was so grand with it's rich crème exterior, ivory marble lion pillars and gleaming iron gates. It was surrounded by an abundance of freshly cut cricket green lawn and a neat assortment of trimmed hedges. In the front of his mansion was a large turquoise pool with a fountain spurting luscious sparkling water. I guessed that his mansion must have had around 200 rooms. I found it strange that one man would want to live in it all by himself, it's as though he was trying to fill a void with the ridiculously vast amount of space. I was curious about Dawsby. I had heard many rumours circulating about him; one of the most common ones being that he was a Titanic survivor. It was as if a grey cloud of mystery constantly overshadowed Dawsby wherever he went; it seemed like no one in the world truly knew him. It seemed as if he didn't even know himself.

The main reasons that I came to West Egg were firstly to pursue my writing career and secondly because my cousin Rose has invited me. I didn't know her too well; we had met a couple of times when we were younger. All I knew was that her mother Ruth was an awful snob and Rose had grown up as a spoilt princess. Regardless I still looked forward to meeting Rose after all those years. She had heard that I was coming to New York and was ever so welcoming. I remember the first time I went to see Rose in her home; it was right across the bay from Dawsby's. Rose's home was almost as or just as impressive as Dawsby's.

"Nathan, I'm so happy to see you!" Rose cried, rushing to greet her cousin. Rose looked ever so beautiful with her radiant red curls and English rose complexion. She wore a beautiful white silk dress which showed off her delicate curves.

"Nathan, this is my husband Cal," Rose said, introducing me to her husband Cal who I had heard all about from her letters.

"Nice to meet you," I nodded. I instantly took a dislike to Cal; he had this cruel air about him. He looked like a cruel man with his smirking face and strong body.

"Nathan, my good man, glad to finally meet you at last," Cal said, thumping me so hard on the back that I thought my bones would break.

Rose and Cal were very hospitable; they showered me with drinks, an assortment of food and had servants pander to my every need.

"I hope you like our home," Rose said, wrapping her arms around me.

"Very much so."

"Good man, Rose has very much been looking forward to your arrival, haven't you sweet pea?" Cal said.

"I'd like you to meet a friend of mine, Miss Josephine Blakely," Rose said. Miss Josephine Blakely was very pretty with blonde sandy curls and a thin delicate frame. She looked at me sulkily, like a child. She took a lock of blonde ringlet and twisted it around her index finger. She seemed very aloof; I'm not sure she liked me very much.

"Wonderful to meet you Miss Blakely," I nodded.

"And you too, Mr- ".

"Carraby."

"You two would make the perfect couple, wouldn't they Cal?" Rose gushed. I felt myself blush a little.

"So tell me about how you're finding New York, where are you living?" Rose asked.

"I'm renting a little cottage, I'm the neighbour of Dawsby? You do know Dawsby don't you?"

"Why Dawsby, the one who apparently survived the Titanic and is now a billionaire?" Josephine said.

Rose gasped so suddenly that everyone in the room went silent. I saw her hands shaking; she dropped the delicate china tea cup and it smashed to a million pieces on the floor.


End file.
